


Crimson Joy

by orphan_account



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Menstrual Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Scents & Smells, Shameless Smut, Smut, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vergil gets his red wings, i’m gross btw, the fluff is at the end ;)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 00:30:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18457784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “You smell…” He inhales, eyes closing as his hands clenched into fists, “Metallic.”Metallic? Why is he getting worked up over that?His lids slide open, attacking her with his gaze again, “Are you… are you menstruating?”





	Crimson Joy

    She never did anything different, nobody ever noticed. So why—

    “Kyrie,” Vergil’s nasally voice from behind her causes her to jump and squeak, “You smell different.”

    Kyrie turns around, gasping when she finds that he is  _ very  _ close to her. His ocean blue eyes gazing at her, he makes her feel naked.

    “O- oh? How so?” The younger woman blushes under his hard stare, “I haven’t been using anything new…” She twirls her brown hair, avoiding his irises.

    “You smell…” He inhales, eyes closing as his hands clenched into fists, “Metallic.”

    Metallic? Why is he getting worked up over that?

    His lids slide open, attacking her with his gaze again, “Are you… are you menstruating?”

    Her mouth drops open, doe-like eyes widening at his statement. She was— she  _ is  _ menstruating, but why is he looking at her with hunger in his eyes when he discovered it? Why is she feeling aroused by the way his eyes rake her body, how he continues to breathe in her scent.

    “Uhm… I,” she stutters, brown eyes avoiding his icy gaze, “Y- yea. What of it?”

    Vergil hums, his hand coming to grasp her chin to allow him to kiss her plump lips. He sighs, starting to grope her body with each and every kiss he steals. Kyrie wonders, why in the world has this situation brought such a rise out of him?

    He picks her up, and she rips away from his lips to gasp and wrap her legs around his waist. 

    “Do not worry,” he purrs, “I’ll take care of you, Sunflower.”

    She shivers as he places hot, searing kisses on her throat. And, before she knows it, she is suddenly placed on her bed. He looms over her, quickly making work of her sweater, bra, and skirt. Now, all that is left is her adorable, blue panties. Vergil licks his lips, grabbing Kyrie’s hips and pulling her closer to him.

    “Beautiful,” he breathes, “absolutely stunning…”

    She opens her mouth to say something, but is interrupted by his calloused hands running up and down her legs. He grows impatient, though, fingers hooking on her underwear to bring them down.

    “W- wait!” Kyrie yelps, face flushed with panic and arousal, “Put a—,” Vergil glares at her for ruining the moment; the younger woman gulping, averting her sweet, brown eyes, “Put a towel under me, so we won’t get- uhm… so we won’t make a mess…”

    The older man sighs, dropping her onto the bed. She gasps, quickly propping herself on her elbows to watch the man leave quickly. The young woman smiles, despite how weird the situation is, she still cannot help but feel butterflies in her stomach when he listened to her requests. To show that he actually does care what she thinks.

    He returns, black towel in hand, “No more interruptions,” Vergil’s eyes rakes down her curves, eyes landing on her cute, innocent, navy panties. The ones with a bow on the front, he licks his lips, “Is that alright, Sunflower?”

    Kyrie looks away and blushes, but nods nonetheless. She will only try this  _ once,  _ due to Vergil’s obvious excitement, and her cramps were starting to bother her. The beautiful girl grimaces.

    “I will take your pains away, Kyrie,” he hums, finally peeling her panties down after he got the towel under her cute butt, “Just be patient.”

    His lover nods again, worrying her lip, watching him as he stares at her womanhood. She wants to know what he is thinking at this moment, and then he opens his mouth.

    “I’m going to pull your tampon out, spread your legs.”

    She goes to protest, but he already has her legs spread and his fingers are clenching the string. He looks up at her, his other hand’s calloused thumb going to circle her clit and he whispers, “Relax.”

    The girl has no choice but to relax, he knows how to get her to let go. How to get her to bend at his whims. She lets out a low moan, his thumb getting quicker, and he finally starts pulling her tampon out as the tension in her muscles lessen. 

    “It…” Kyrie starts, breathless, “It feels— it feels weird when someone else pulls it out…”

    Vergil laughs breathily, staring at her pussy with admiration, “I’m glad I am able to make you feel something new, Sunflower.”

    As he says that, he throws her tampon away in the little paper bin beside the bed, promising himself he’ll take it out later for Kyrie’s comfort. 

    The older man looms over her, hard, icy, ocean eyes staring into her soft, warm, brown ones. He is handsome, the wrinkles etched in his face tells of hardships, then, he starts to place a chaste kiss to her lips. 

    “Are you distracted?” He kisses her pulse, then he travels down, giving her breasts attention, mind going haywire by the way she smells. His hands starts getting clammy, excited to taste of her. To become one with her.

    Her chest rises up and down; she starts to breathe heavily as his kisses gets rougher. Vergil leaves lustful, red marks on her pale skin. Kyrie’s face flushes crimson with arousal and he is so close and almost  _ there.  _

    “I want you to focus on me, Sunflower,” he rasps, settling between her thighs, taking a deep inhale of her, “Only me.”

    “I will, Vergil,” she whispers breathlessly, lips trembling, “No one else is on my mind, only you.”

    “Good,” he groans, digging his nails into her thighs, making her whimper, “You’re mine… nobody can make you feel this way,” his lips brushes her thigh, tongue coming out to get a taste of her hot skin.

    Kyrie nods; panting, her eyes beg him to hurry, to take what’s his, “Nobody…” She replies, voice hushed, “Nobody but you.”

    He hums, and finally he indulges both of them by licking her cunt from bottom to top. Her hips buck into his face, a sinful mewl tumbling past those pretty, pink lips of hers. The older man licks his lips relishing in the metallic taste of her blood. Vergil’s thumb joins him to circle around her clit so he can delve his tongue into her, so he can taste her more, get close and personal.

    When his tongue circles around the younger woman’s hole, she squirms. Panting and eyes tearing up. The older man likes— no— loves the way she squirms under his hands and tongue, he loves her metallic taste.

    He pulls back, which makes her whine; blood covers his lips, and she really did not think her flow was  _ that  _ heavy today. 

    “You taste so good,” he gasps, eyes lidded, “I feel like I’m sipping honey suckles on a hot, summer day.”

    Why he makes that comparison, she does not know. Vergil likes to compare oddly specific, but satisfying, things to her, the sentiment makes her heart flutter nonetheless. Kyrie cannot think about that now, though, for he has went in with a new vigor. Loudly slurping and sucking at her cunt, groaning at the taste of her menstrual blood and natural lubricants.

    She pulls her hair-tie from her brown hair, letting it cascade over her shoulders as she rises up to thread her fingers through her lover’s snow white hair. He sucks particularly hard at her clit, and his nimble, rough fingers suddenly feels her up. The otherworldly, according to Vergil, woman throws her head back; a high pitched moan leaves those gorgeous, bee-swollen lips of hers. He feels proud— so, so proud— that he makes her feel this way.

    “Vergil— Vergil,” she moans, riding into his face. Normally, he would hold her down, tell her to stop moving or he will leave her to finish herself off. Today, though, is different, as he eagerly pushes back into each roll of her hips. Harshly breathing into her cunt. 

    Her body shakes, the moment Vergil’s fingers hits that special spot, the moment Vergil’s mouth envelopes her clit. Blood all over the lower portion of his face, she cums, back arching, Vergil moaning into her pussy. Vergil, Vergil, Vergil—

    Kyrie slumps into the bed, desperately taking in air. The only thing she hears is rustling of clothes, the tale-tell sound of a  _ ziiip!  _ The movement on the bed is all that she needs to feel to know that Vergil’s desperate. Pre-cum leaking from his cock.

    He quickly sheathes himself into her swollen pussy, grunting and immediately going into an unrelenting pace. 

    “Ver- Vergil!” She chokes on her own spit, the older man wraps a hand around her throat, and she starts to gargle; screaming, thrashing about, and Vergil— high on power and Kyrie’s taste, smell, and pussy— groans and grunts and growls. 

    The wet  _ smack, smack, smack!  _ The humid air, smelling of sex, sweat and menstrual blood, the distracting presence of his hand on her throat. She feels so, so dizzy. Her eyes roll into the back of her skull.

    Vergil forces her mouth open and shoves his tongue into her mouth, she can taste herself on him, blood smearing on her face from his indulgence. She does not care; not when he is shoving himself into her at a quick pace, not when he is growling and acting like a complete animal, hitting that spot within her over and over again. Kyrie feels his cock throb, her walls fluttering around his length.

    He rips himself away from her mouth and places both of his hands on her hips, lifting her up slightly to drive himself deeper into her welcoming cunt. His nails dig into her flesh in the best way, and he growls as her walls squeeze around him almost painfully.

    “Mine. Mine. Mine,” he repeats, teeth clenching, “All  _ mine.” _

    Kyrie screeches when he thrusts into her harshly, she cums again, though more harshly than the last. Vergil allows a guttural and animalistic sound tear itself from his voice box. He quickly bends his lover in half, teeth latching to her throat, and he thrusts into her roughly a few more times before he releases inside of her.

    The older man tastes the bitter, metallic taste of her blood once again. Rising up from her thoroughly debauched body, he realizes that his teeth sunk a little too deep. 

    He attempts to catch his own breath, then, he speaks, voice hoarse, “Are you okay, Kyrie?”

    She nods tiredly, humming in content with both of her hands on her chest. Vergil looks down at himself, blood covers his cock, and he is thankful that she is too exhausted to even look at him. She would have grimaced and groaned in disgust at the sight of his crotch covered in her menstrual blood.

    Vergil leaves the bed, much to his lover’s displeasure, to get things to clean themselves up with. Three damp rags, a tampon, and—while he was close to it— quickly retrieves panties from her drawer, knowing it will allow her comfort due her cycle. 

    Kyrie huffs when he lifts her legs to clean her with the soft, damp, warm fabric. He knows how she feels: pleasantly sore, exhausted, and warm from the treatment she had underwent from Vergil.

    While cleaning his partner, the older man is able to rest at the thought that his teeth’s intrusion on her flesh was not deep enough to have to bandage. This saves him much needed time, as he quickly cleans himself up and throws the covers over him and the beautiful, young woman in the bed.

    “How do you feel?” He whispers, fingers lightly scracthing her back causing her to shudder.

    She turns, eyes lidded and irises swirling with love. Kyrie presses a kiss to his— thankfully not bloody this time— lips, humming. The girl pulls away and nuzzles into his chest, then, if the answer was not obvious to him already, answers:

    “I feel good, thanks to you,  _ Handsome Devil.” _

    Vergil’s cheeks flush at the nickname and she smiles and kisses his lips again. 

    “Will you allow me to debauch you like this again?” He mutters, embarrassed. 

    “Whatever you ask for,” she sighs into him, feeling love swell in her chest as he kisses her forehead, “You shall recieve, My Love.”

    He smiles that smile of his, the one she has come to love, the one she would abandon everything just to see it again, the smile that is only reserved for her.

    “Then, I shall remember that, Sunflower.”

 


End file.
